The Walking Dead
by CarvedKid
Summary: Bella didn't believe life had much in store for her, until she meets an uncommonly gentle zombie, named Edward. She has revived the heart of a strange limping, corpse-smelling, neck licking dead man. The downside? Everywhere they turn, there will be dead bodies and blood. Is it really possible for a zombie to love a human? Or is it mere flesh-lust? Obsessed Zombieward.
1. The Walking Dead

**I own nothing to do with Twilight.**

**I've missed being on here and creating stories. This one came to me after watching a zombie movie, and I wondered how a zombie movie would be, with Edward as one. So, this is my attempt of a zombieward and Bella love story. There will be blood and gore (as is expected, really).**

**I don't know if this will be anyone's cup of tea, but feel free to let me know your thoughts. Thanks! :)**

* * *

_**The Walking Dead**_

_To him, others were flesh. Only one was Bella._

* * *

I told myself that if only I could just get by another year, I would be fine.

Two feet from where I was standing, an old rusty Chevy pulled up near my side of the road.

"Hey girl, don't let me scare you now," he said, and I recognized him as one of the quarterback players from my school. Tyler, I believe his name was. Girls would talk about him all the time. Sometimes, I would overhear them in the library, gossiping about how fit and gorgeous he was.

And, since it was pitch-black dark outside, of course he startled me.

"Oh, Tyler," I said shyly. "You play quarterback at school, right?"

"Yeah, I do. You waiting for your folks to pick you up?"

"Yes, I am." My dad was supposed to be picking me up that night. He worked down at the local police station as Chief Deputy. I guess his night was filled to the brim with paperwork that day.

"It's after dark, Bella. How about I give you a ride home? I'm pretty sure it's about to rain soon."

I wish now that I had known this was all weird, this was all too strange, and wrong. Boys usually never paid me any special attention, unless they were teasing me in class. Unless they were calling me loser, or freak, or nerd, because I was generally a quiet and focused student. I had never told him my name, I had never so much as even spoke to him, I never had any classes with him, he wasn't in my grade. I suppose I assumed then, that one of the girls in my grade, someone who had known my name, although not me directly in person, had filled him in.

As it turned out, one of the girls at school, popular Jessica Stanley, had filled him in on me. I guess I was one of those easy targets. One you would easily pick up on as shy and vulnerable; A girl who easily fell for the cruel, spiteful-hearted trap. I wished I knew that it was wrong, that it was all going to turn out badly for me. But I suppose you can't help yourself, ahead of time. I suppose Tyler knew how vulnerable I was, standing outside in the freezing cold, waiting on my dad. And, because of that, he worked it to his advantage. He scrolled down his misty window a fraction more, and peered out at me.

"You want that ride or not? It's warmer in my car. I have the heating on." And, like the easily influenced girl I was, I gave in to his inviting offer.

Later, at school in the cafeteria, once he recovered from his near-death experience, he would be boasting about this. Only he would be missing certain significant details. Ones that still shook him, and terrified him greatly.

"Did you do it?" Jessica would ask, conspiratorially, over her binder-book.

"I did. It was so easy, too. She put up a pretty good struggle."

"Ha ha. Serves her right, the silly dope."

I remember, without hesitation, I climbed into the passenger's seat of his car, eager for the warmth his hot air conditioner presented. I didn't pick up on anything, I wasn't fully weirded out, until when I gave him the directions to my father's house, he ignored them and took a different detour. It was then a peculiar feeling grew inside the pit of my stomach.

"I think you're going the wrong way," I said, calmly as possible. I didn't want him noticing how worried I was becoming over the whole thing.

"Yeah, I'll get you there in just a second. I've just got to drop something into a friend's house first."

He started asking me questions next. Ones I didn't feel remotely comfortable answering.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Bella?"

I said I did, and that he was actually waiting for me to get home right as we speak. It was a pitiful lie. He saw straight through it, anyway.

"Hmmm. That's odd. I never see you with any boy's at school."

"No, that's because my boyfriend doesn't go to our school," I kept up, as confidently as I could manage. "And he's the real jealous type, by the way. You better drop me off real quick, please."

"Hold on. Let me just get to my friend's house. It's just around the corner, right over the bend."

I don't think I believed it even then. I knew the streets of Forks pretty well, being a small town. Where he was taking me, was into a private and secluded area. Up a rocky path of road that led into a bushy woodland area. But I wasn't strong enough then. I was too nervous to raise my voice.

My father used to constantly refer me as a gentle, introverted girl by nature. Deeply sensitive, and eager to please. He would say it isn't a bad thing, and that the world could benefit with a lot more girls like me. Thoughtful, smart and caring girls, like me. But he also said, it could be my downfall, if I let it be. "You just don't let people walk over you, sweetie," he would constantly say. And, I think I believe now, being that type of person I was, became the downfall my father was talking about.

"Actually, the heaters kind of too warm. Why don't you take off you jacket?" he said, once he took a swift and jerky turn up the rocky road.

I didn't think anything into it then. I definitely felt way too stuffy in my jacket, so I did.

After I folded my jacket neatly and set it on my lap, he said, "Why don't you ever talk to me at school? I think you're real pretty. But you'd be way prettier, if you talked more."

I didn't really care whether talking more would make me seem prettier in his eyes or not. I just wanted to get home. I peered outside the fogged up window, and saw that it was dark outside. Blindingly dark. He had reached the private entrance of the road, and there were no set of lamp-lights, no anything. When I think back on it neutrally now, I suppose it was a very clever way to molest a girl without anyone having a chance of overhearing her screams, or cries, or yells, no matter how hard she fought, or anyone coming to her rescue. But what Tyler didn't realize, was that there was something far greater out there in the world.

When he pulled up the car and cut the engine, we sat in darkness for a little while. Then I felt him place his hand on the top of my jacket.

"Please Tyler, I really have to get home now. Can you hurry it up?"

I remember he grabbed my jacket and tossed it down onto the floor at my feet, so that his hands could get to my lap more easily.

"Take off your shirt, Bella."

"What?"

"Your shirt," he repeated calmly. "Take it off."

"Please, Tyler. My boyfriend is waiting on me."

"You don't have one."

"I do. And he'll be very angry."

"No, you don't. You're lying. You've never spoken about a boyfriend at school."

"Tyler," I said, trying my very hardest not to cry. "Please, just take me home right now."

"I'm not taking you back home just yet, Bella. You should be thanking me. You'll probably never get a chance like this ever again."

"A chance like what?"

"A popular guy like me taking the nerdy schoolgirl's virginity. You can tell people later. It might even score you some brownie points in the cool department."

And then he unbuckled his seat belt, and climbed over me in the seat. I fought so hard then. I fought so hard, I screamed so loudly I thought my throat would be sore for weeks. But soon I grew tired, and I was struggling. Tyler was an impressively built boy, for a football player. He was a quarterback for a reason. I was no match for his physical strength and heavy build. Soon, I had no choice but to admit defeat, and there I was, lying there underneath him awkwardly, when he yanked down my trousers, panting and sweating heavily all over me.

It felt like the worst thing in the entire world. It felt surreal almost, in a way. Like I was not truly there, while he laid on top of me, touching me first, then getting all worked up to invade my body.

I thought about my father.

He would probably still be down at the station at work, completely oblivious to what was going on to his daughter.

Then, I started thinking malicious thoughts, of my invisible jealous boyfriend.

I envisioned him coming to me afterwards, more angry than worried over me, and he would go after Tyler, hunt him down, and castrate him for invading me the way he was.

Tyler started to press his lips into mine. They felt wrong, too hot, disgusting, and I wanted so badly to scream, to sink my teeth into his lips, only I was far too afraid and exhausted that it would only spur him on to do more terrible things to me.

"Don't, Tyler, no," I managed, and I kept repeating it over and over. Don't. Please. Stop. No, no. He didn't listen anyway.

"Yes, yes, yes. Oh God."

No, no, no. Please God.

"Tell me you want me, Bella," he said over my mouth. "Tell me it feels good."

And it did feel good. It felt very good. A moment later, anyway. Revenge is an oddly satisfying thing.

Gently, the car door slid open.

Like an invisible vacuum cleaner, he was sucked right off of me. I heard a growl coming through the dark, a terrifying growl, and then Tyler screaming.

I could not lie there passively like I was seconds ago. My face felt all wet from my tears. I scrambled to pull up my trousers, while there seemed to be all kinds of activity going around the car. Tyler screaming, strange gutteral groans, and noises. I was too scared to get out of his car, so I sat in there, huddled over, listening to the screamings and growls as they went on.

Some time later, there was silence.

I caved in, sobbing, and crying. I broke down completely. I didn't know where Tyler had went, all there was, was darkness surrounding the car and the door left hanging wide open. A few moments later, oddly enough, I heard panting.

Then a white torso came into view outside the car window. A blood-stained, sleeveless white shirt. A person leaned down, a white unfamiliar face, that peered in at me through the misty glass. There was blood smeared all over the person's face. And then he unlatched my door slowly, and yanked it open with a faint creak of the rusty bearings. I tried to talk to him, to plead with him not to harm me, only I couldn't find my voice at all.

He slid down on his knees in front of my open door. He was panting heavily, in an extremely exhausted and defeated way.

"I'm so sorry I didn't come here sooner," he said, very gently, and softly. "I thought I heard it. But I assumed I was wrong. I guess not. How are you?" He looked me over carefully, this blood stained stranger. His eyes were a peculiar colour. Everything about him was different, though. "Are you doing all right? Are you hurt?"

"Yes, _physically_," I managed, in a weak croak.

He slid back onto his feet, and his arms curled around me tightly before I had enough time to feel truly afraid. "I'm going to ease you out of the car now, all right? If you feel pain in any way when I do so, please cry out."

Luckily, I didn't feel hurt anywhere. Just... sore in particular places.

"I'm going to take you away from the car. You're safe with me, I swear," he whispered, cradling my body into him as if I weighed next to nothing. His entire shirt felt sticky and wet, as the side of my face pressed into it, but I tried not to pay too much attention to it at that moment in time.

I could only be thankful. And relieved.

"Where... where are you taking me exactly?" I said, my voice weak and thready.

"It's all right. It isn't that far away."

After a bit of walking, I think I realized he was taking me into the bushy parts concealed to the road. Then, he laid me down gently on what felt like a solid stump underneath my backside. It was so dark, I had difficulty in telling.

"What happened to Tyler?" As I asked the question, it wasn't so much shocking to me how calm I sounded. It was what I didn't feel, when asking it. I didn't seem to care much about how Tyler was at all.

"Near dead," he said somewhere behind me, his voice thick and pleased.

"And did you make him that way?"

"I _did_."

My satisfaction in that knowledge heightened. For a moment there, I felt sick and disgusted in myself at my horrible line of reasoning, but I couldn't deny I felt content in the knowledge. And relieved, relieved that my savior was still here with me. Even if he was an almost-murderer who might or mightn't have killed a school student. A school student who just tried to cruelly rape me.

I tried to stand, but my legs felt far too weak. I felt him slide in behind me, and his arms went around me again. He pulled me back down, my legs caved in, and suddenly, I found myself sitting in his lap, my head resting against his chest.

"Are you afraid? Are you trying to run?" He sounded merely confused.

"No," I whispered through the darkness, and I felt I sincerely meant it then. "Surprisingly, I'm not afraid. Not at all. I just wanted to check for certain that my legs were still working."

"And_ are_ they?"

"I guess not." A chuckle rumbled through his chest. "I should be worried about sitting so closely to you after what just happened, but, surprisingly, I'm not," I said, before I even realized what I was saying. I felt that chuckle again, trembling him all over.

"Yes, you _should_ be."

I took in a deep breath. "Are you going to kill me now?"

"Not today. I believe you've learned your lesson."

"And what lesson was that?" I asked tartly. He shoved me off the stump onto my feet. I stumbled a bit, losing my balance, but thankfully, a white hand whipped out and clung to my shoulder, steadying me.

"That you shouldn't accept a ride with strangers," he said, very disapprovingly. "Even the ones you think you know."

"So you think I brought this onto myself?"

"Of course not. But you can never be too careful. Trust no one, not even those closest to you."

I stepped forward so that I could see him more clearly through the dark. It was fairly easy; His white face was floating eerily before me.

"What is your name?" I asked urgently, only I didn't get my answer. Instead, he grabbed me by the hand and started pulling me along with him through the darkness.

His hand was wet, and bloody.

Tyler's empty car came into view.

"Your name, please?"

He pushed me against the car and a cell phone mysteriously appeared in his hand.

"Yes, I need a cab. Thank you."

"Your name?" I repeated desperately, for what felt like the millionth time.

He seized my arm and started pulling me down to the more busy part of the road.

"What happened to Tyler?" I asked, trying for another answer. "What did you_ really_ do to him?"

I turned to look behind me at my savior.

My mouth hang agape. Surprisingly, he wasn't there.

_He was gone._

* * *

The cab dropped me home just after eight o'clock.

The porch light was still on, my father's car not in the driveway. He still hadn't arrived home yet then.

Since he wasn't home yet, I decided it would give me a decent enough time to grieve over what happened tonight. I didn't know where it would go from here. I didn't know whether I ought to make a report or not over the incident. But my brain was telling me it was the right thing to do. What if Tyler tried to do it to other girls?

I pulled out my keys, and unlocked the door.

One minute, I was standing all alone. In the next instance, someone was standing right behind me.

"Ah, I see you've made it home in one piece. Excellent."

_My savior's voice_.

I felt a bit spooked that he had somehow managed to track me down, and the whereabouts of my father's house, so mysteriously, but I let it automatically slide, because I knew, he wasn't going to hurt me. He had helped me tonight, I think that gave me a good enough reason to trust him.

I turned on the spot to look at him. Now that there were lights on- the porch ones brightly liting the area spanning out into the yard- I could see all of him, and clearly. He was standing at the bottom of the porch steps, staring up at me.

He looked a lot more bloodier than I had thought he would have. But much to my shock, it didn't frighten me off a single bit. He was quite beautiful. A little over six-feet. A blinding white, blood-streaked shirt. Tight black jeans. Unruly copper-colored hair, combed back in an oddly old-fashioned style. And those strange colored eyes, that made him appear so different. His skin seemed so different, also. It was pale as a sheet, with the faintest blue tinge to it.

"What are you?" I didn't sound frightened at all. I sounded simply... curious.

"Dead," he said simply. That didn't help at all.

"If you're dead, then_ why_... are you standing here talking to me? How?"

He licked his lips, which brought me to notice them. They were nicely sculpted, lacking of the color you might usually see on people, though. Not an ounce of color to them at all, but pallid.

"I'm the walking dead."

One moment he was standing at the porch steps and, in the next, causing me to shriek, he was standing right in front of me, peering down at my face. His eyes were a lot darker up close.

"Apologies," he said formally, though he still didn't bother backing out of my personal space.

I gasped, bewildered. "How is it _possible_ that you can move so fast?"

As if it illustrate that and stun me further, my hand was suddenly in his, and he was guiding it up to his face. He rested the back of my hand against his cool cheek, and I saw the way his eyes flickered closed momentarily. Of course, it was far too quick to spot well enough. I was probably only just imagining it.

"Whoa," I groaned, feeling breathless. My hand suddenly had found a place underneath the collar of his shirt, lying flat against the smooth skin of his chest. I could feel little spikes of chest hair underneath the tips of my fingers. "Give me a moment to process this, please."

And he did, very courteously. He allowed me to remove my hand from out of the collar of his wispy cotton shirt, and place it more decently against his arm instead. After all, it felt way too.. personal touching him on his chest. And I didn't know him at all.

"Are you _really_ dead?"

Before I knew it, his hands were resting on top of my shoulders, and my back was being pressed into the door. He sure liked touching me.

"I am." He sounded breathless himself. "And you, are not."

"Believe me, I already know that," I laughed. "I think I would know if I'm dead." He seemed surprised by me saying that; His eyebrows rose.

"You're really not afraid of me, are you?"

"No, and that surprises you." I could tell as much.

"Usually people are."

"Well, if you say so. But I'm not."

"You should be." He sounded amused.

"But I don't believe you're going to hurt me."

"You sound awfully convinced on that."

"Well, you would have done it already. You would have let Tyler rape me."

He winced.

"And you didn't," I pointed out. "So, I don't believe I have any valid reason to be scared of you."

"I can give you plenty."

"Like what?"

"I very nearly killed that boy tonight."

"So, you didn't completely do it?" It was such a strange moment, talking so calmly about murdering a student who goes to my school. As well as the fact this stranger is dead.

"Would you like me to go back and finish it?"

I stared up at him in silence. I couldn't believe the gall he had in asking me that.

"Next time, if he crosses you again, I will." The threat was evident in his voice. "If anyone else crosses you, for that matter."

"And why would you be so willing to help me out?"

"Why?"

Alarming me further, he bent down, and I was being pressed into the front door again. He laid his cool cheek against mine, and accidently, I found myself sniffing him. He smelt an odd scent; one a bit sickening, resembling road-kill you found on the side of the road. It was bizarre. He said he was the walking dead, and he sure smelt that way, too.

I felt him shudder against me.

And then, without knowing what I was doing, my hands just decided to find a resting place on his back, my arms circling around his neck. After a moment, I felt his face turn into my neck, his lips pressing into my skin. It effected me in a crazy way, just the sensation of feeling such a cold, hard object against my skin. And then, his lips parted, and I felt them press over my skin. It went on and on for a few insane minutes, his mouth opening and deepening over my flesh. I could feel my breath speeding up, and I was suddenly so ashamed of what was happening, because I was never this type of girl at all. The type who lets a weird stranger kiss her. His tongue ran over the crease of my neck, causing me to shiver, and then I had to draw the line there. It was almost as if he was an eager dog, hungrily licking up sauce that has been spilled over the floor.

I pulled back, and suddenly he did, also. He looked quite shaken over the reaction he had experienced himself. It was unlike anything. He certainly was from another world.

"Apologies," he said quietly, sounding very ashamed in himself, and looking it, too. Him licking me, was so bizarre. I couldn't seem to wrap my head around it. "As I said, next time..." He nodded, turning to leave. Then, he said, "_Next time_, I will have his head on a plate for dinner."

"Uh, thank... thank you for helping me," I said, a bit too loudly than I had initially intended. I felt a thanks was definitely necessary after all that he had done for me tonight. He didn't turn to look at me again, he just resumed with stepping down the porch and into the grass on our yard.

"Oh, and your _name_?" I called, remembering I still didn't know what he went by. I was still trying to gather myself after him licking me hungrily.

"Edward," he called back at me. Once he reached the center of my yard, he broke out into a run. It was a distorted, odd way in which he held his limbs. A bit like an ape; Crooked elbows, dipped knees. Then he faded off into the darkness of the night.

I hadn't the time to dwell over what happened with Tyler. I laid in my bed, my mind was too bogged down, set on other confusing things.

_This Edward_.

Everything tonight had been such a strange turn of events. There was just something different about this Edward. He seemed so old-fashioned, and unlike a human. It wasn't just the bluish skin, it was the way he... _licked_ me. Like he was enjoying the taste my flesh gave off. I decided hopefully once I got to meet him again, we could have a very curt and frank discussion on the matter. I spent an embarrassing length of time in bed, unable to sleep.

When I turned over to look at the illuminated numbers on my alarm clock, it told me it was four thirty in the morning. I groaned, and smacked myself gently across the forehead. And then I decided since lounging around wasn't helping any, I had to move. I slid out of my sheets, and hopped to my feet. I paced around the room for a bit, undecided, before tiptoeing over to the window. I pulled back the lace curtains, and peered outside. Everything was still and silent outside. My father's car was finally in the driveway. Somehow, I must have been so riddled in thought, I mustn't have noticed him getting in during the night.

I looked beyond the dark yard, out past the trees. And then, I felt so ridiculous standing there, shivering in my thin pajamas, staring off into the distance vacantly. I really had to try get some sleep. But as I turned, I caught it. A flicker of white crossing my vision. I turned and looked and, sure enough, he was there.

Edward.

He was distracted, hunched over something in the grass a few meters across our yard. Something white and long was near his face, and it occurred to me then, he was nuzzling his face and nose into it, almost reverently.

A limb. _A human's arm._

There was certainly something wrong with this Edward man. And I couldn't figure out what exactly.

* * *

When I got dressed and ready for school the next morning, I felt absolutely dead on my feet. Hardly bothered to make breakfast, I ignored my rumbling stomach and locked up the house to head to school. I heard shuffling footsteps behind me, but I didn't think much of it.

"Good morning, beautiful." His voice broke out into the daylight, cheerful and bright.

I yelped and whirled around, clutching a hand to my chest. My heart felt it was thumping in my ears. What I saw, was something I didn't expect at all. It took me a moment to calm myself down from the fear that made all the little hairs on the nape of my neck stand on end at the sight of him standing behind me. He was covered in blood again; dry red streaks blotting his chin.

"Oh, my God," I whispered shakily, then felt my hands clasp over my mouth in shock. Somehow he looked far worse in the harsh glare of the day. Blood. _Everywhere._ On the front of his shirt. On his face. His lips.

"Apologies," he said nervously. Then he attempted to wipe off the blood staining his face with the back of a hand. "I'm generally a messy eater. Forgive me. I didn't mean to frighten you just then." He smiled down at me apologetically. There was even red staining his teeth.

My stomach lurched at his bloody, enthusiastic smile for me. "What are you _really_?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"I told you last evening," he said slowly, his forehead crumpling in frustration. "I am the walking dead."

I made a strange squeaking noise. "And what does that... mean exactly?"

"Deceased. A corpse. Dead."

"Yeah, that_ still_ isn't exactly helping me."

"Apologies. I probably don't explain myself enough. I am the walking dead. I enjoy eating human flesh."

I tried not to let my horror show, but I failed. _This was all a dream. Surely, it had to be._

I was hoping to be brave, but clearly my body had other intentions in mind. I shot out and lunged for the front door frantically, scrambling for the right set of keys to reopen it. It was no good. It was far too late.

"Please_ don't_ do that," he pleaded desperately, and before I knew it, one of his hands snatched out and grabbed my keys. Blood. On the nail beds of his fingers. Oh my God. "Please don't react like this. Every single time, it happens! It drives me crazy!"

"Please, just hand me back my keys! Stay away from me! Far away!"

I stole a quick glance at him. My keys were right there, digging into the palm of his right hand. _If only I could just-_

Maybe sensing my next course of action, and scaring the life out of me, he took me completely by surprise.

He shook his head then leapt at me. He was strong, evidently stronger and heavier than me. I knocked into the wall over his weight, and then I was toppling sideways onto the hard wood of the porch, I gave out a pained moan, and he was lying on top of me. My hands came up, and I groped both his hands, searching for my keys, but somehow he must have dropped them during the fall. I gave up an instance later, panting heavily, bringing my arms up over my face, attempting to shield myself from the moment he somehow mysteriously lunged down and ate my flesh, like he just said he enjoyed. Only, surprisingly it never arrived. I peeked up at him through splayed fingers; He was simply staring down at me, tired from the topple himself, his body completely frozen on top of mine. Panting equally as raggedly as I was, he rolled slowly from me onto his side, then his arm came around me, pulling me up more comfortably onto my backside.

I stared at him, trembling all over. I was waiting for the very moment he killed me, only still, it never came. He simply looked back at me, then he made a funny little whimpering noise and dropped his face into his hands. It distressed me a bit, it seemed to me as if he was crying, I had upset him in some way, which was the very least of my intentions truly.

"So, are you going to eat me now or what?" I panted through gritted teeth.

He turned his head and looked at me through his fingers. His eyes were wide. "I wasn't going to eat you."

"You promise?" I asked, eyeing him doubtfully.

"I promise." He nodded his head vehemently.

"So, are you like a... a zombie or something?" It sounded so weird to say it out in the open, let alone seriously consider that possibility.

"Yes. I suppose they call it that. A zombie. A flesh-eating zombie. A ghastly creature fit for horror movies."

"How is that... even possible? How can zombies truly... exist?"

"I don't know. You tell me. I simply woke up one morning, with an insatiable appetite. And now, here I am. I don't even understand it, really. But it's what I am."

He kept talking for a little while, in a soft confused voice, and I listened in silence. He sounded genuinely confused, searching for a right explanation into why he came about. I wasn't sure whether I believed it or not. How can you possible believe something so ludicrous? Something so unreal?

It suddenly jerked out of my mouth, without any ounce of thought whatsoever. "Do you... you know, go to school? Can you?"

"You're asking me if I attend school?" He sounded as if he was trying not to appear amused, but he failed. A crooked smile splitted across his pallid lips, and he chuckled underneath his breath. "Do I look like I am able to attend a school... like... like..." He gestured with his hands frantically at all the blood covering his clothes, then his face, "Like... _this_? Do you honestly believe that it's possible for me? I think the skin would be a dead give-away, don't you?"

"Oh. Of course." His smile faded, and he looked miserable. I felt sorry for him then, but when my hand rose to touch his cheek, he dodged out-of-the-way and climbed to his feet unsteadily.

"Plus, with the insatiable hunger I get, I would probably slaughter the entire student body. No, I believe it is best I stay far away from any crowded places. Speaking of which."

Just as I was scrambling onto my hands and knees to get off the porch, he was suddenly in my face.

"You probably have somewhere you need to be. I'll let you be. May I kiss you?" He said it so quickly, like a hyperactive child, it took me a moment to get my bearings straight. He was asking to kiss me? After what he has only just informed me of?

"Uh, no," I said vehemently. He helped me to my feet. "I don't think I can... right now. This is a little hard for me to absorb, if you haven't noticed."

"Of course. I'll come see you again."

"Yes. Maybe, depends."

"On what?"

"I get a bit queasy around blood, so do you think you could maybe clean yourself up a bit first?" Was that a bit rude to ask?

"Oh. Of course." His hands reached for me, and once again, I let rip an unsettled noise I didn't really want to make out of fear he'd get the wrong impression. It was too late to repair it though. Soon as he heard it, his mouth mashed into an angry line, and he ran his hands through his hair miserably, before he turned and stalked away. Even with the way he walked quickly through the grass, with unbalanced, stumbling strides, I could assess he was upset.

But really, this wasn't something you got used to quickly. It would be taking me a lot of time.

**Lol. So what did you think of zombie Edward? Creepy or still somehow endearing? Please review. Reviews really encourage me, just even a simple yes, in telling me to continue is wonderful :)**


	2. A zombie kiss

**Again, I own nothing to do with Twilight.**

**Wow, the response I received was amazing. Thank you all! Glad to see you have a bit of a soft spot of zombieward. I quite like him too, even though there is a darkness that lurks within. Trying to see Rob pattinson as a zombie in my mind while I write, is kind of odd. Haha.**

**But hoping you enjoy this one, you've inspired me, thank you!**

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**Chapter Two**

He was waiting for me right after I finished my day's worth of school. It frightened me, at first. But then I think I just automatically believed he wasn't here to cause me any harm.

"Wow," I laughed, feeling a bit breathless at how good he looked when he was cleaned up right. I almost laughed hysterically loud at the way he was dressed. He looked as if he had just come straight from church, or a funeral, in his best glad-rags; A nice charcoal grey suit jacket, with a button-up dark blue dress shirt underneath, and matching pants. He was even wearing polished shiny, dark brown loafers. There was not a single trace of blood on him whatsoever; He almost looked as if he was a normal young, human man. Aside from the translucent, fair purple-tinged skin, which we couldn't do much about, I suppose.

"Is it too much?" he asked, in surprisingly normal way. His hand slid down the side of his dressy trousers self-consciously. "I don't have many clothes on me. This is what I was wearing before I was... different."

"No, it isn't." Was it odd I found him dashing for a zombie? "You look... good."

"Oh." He looked very pleased by my approval. "As do you. Then again, most flesh looks wonderful to me."

I cringed at the odd remark. If we were going to become something close to friends, he was really going to have to cut that out, before he frightened me away officially.

He stared at me in dead-silence, and I guess neither one of us knew just what to do or what to even say, no less, to end the silence and make it seem less awkward.

"Maybe going for a walk wouldn't be so bad," I suggested helpfully. I plopped my school bag down onto the porch.

"Oh, yes indeed. It's a very lovely afternoon." Slowly, he reached his hand out and held it towards me. A bit hesitantly, I accepted, and slid my hand through his. I stepped carefully down the porch steps onto the grass, and his grasp tightened. His skin was hard and cold and smooth as he held it between us while we started with our walk. I tried my very hardest to forget that, and pretended we were just two utterly normal people, much the same, walking together. "Did you attend your school?"

"I did."

"Is school something that you enjoy?" It felt strange talking about school with him, of all things. But it eased me that we had something to talk about.

"Sometimes, I guess."

Somehow my answer confused him, and he paused for a moment, standing still. "Sometimes?"

I pursed my lips, trying to find a way to explain it.

"Sometimes, I enjoy going to school. Other times, I don't. It's when people tease me, which is most of the time, that I wish I could be halfway across the world and not even bother about going to school."

"_Tease_ you?"

"Yes. Sometimes I get bullied. People call me terrible names that hurt me."

"Yes, people do that to me, also."

I turned to look at him, stunned. "People _bully_ you?"

"People call me hurtful things, and sometimes they throw rocks and sticks at me. Sometimes they kick me, and scream real loudly in my face. Mostly, they run. Noticing them running from me, it makes me incredibly angry."

I think I could understand completely why people ran from him. It didn't sound very nice to say, though.

"Half the time, I simply want to talk but the others cannot understand that," he went on, continuing his rant. "I suppose with what I am, there comes a price. But I am not like all the others. Just like you flesh people, you get good, and occasionally, you get bad."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "So, you're saying... there are _more_ of you?" That unsettled me quite a lot.

"Yes, there are a lot more of us. Just like the first human on earth, when God planted Adam and Eve, he also planted the first zombie hybrid. Naturally, evolution takes its course, and we expand in numbers."

"Are there just more of you in America?"

He laughed. "Are there _only_ humans existing in the United States?" he said sarcastically, perfectly illustrating his point.

"Oh, right. Of course."

"There are plenty more of us living in Australia, but they're not as evolved as some of us are here. You don't hear of it much here on the television, but there is a reason why so many back-packers go missing. There is a reason why people mysteriously vanish. Our kind are behind it, but the world just doesn't know it yet."

That sounded foreboding. I felt a shudder ripple down my spine. So, basically he was explaining, half the reason why people go missing without a trace, was because zombies were behind it?

He squeezed my hand in a very reassuring way, perhaps sensing my unease. We started walking again, Edward leading the way. Loose bits of rocks crackled underneath our shoes.

"How do you think you came about?" I asked. "Do you remember _anything_ of who you were... before you became what you are?"

"Some things," he said, shrugging casually. He kept his eyes to the ground, while we strolled on. "I remember I was attending a funeral. My mother's, in fact. One moment, I was saying my prayers and, in the next instance, we were raided. My entire family, and all of the towns men in attendance that morning."

I reached out and patted the back of his hand. "Oh, I'm sorry."

He sniffled loudly. Then tossed his head to the side, over-looking my apology. "I cannot remember much after that. But the people who raided us, they were not just any flesh. There were rumours spread across town, legends of flesh-eaters that existed in our parts of the land. We never put much stock into the legends, though. We assumed it was purely nonsense and fables. I suppose they _were_ true, after all." He looked behind his shoulder at me and smiled. I almost shivered visibly. "In all things considered, I am just pleased my mother was dead before it all began. I believe the worst part, would be seeing my family as monstrous, decaying reproductions of themselves. I'm grateful it was me, and not them."

"I can't even imagine how hard it must be," I sighed sadly.

"And you wouldn't want to realistically," he murmured quietly. Everything was so depressing. But he squeezed my hand again, and I found almost instantly, my dismal mood evaporated the tiniest bit, just at a mere hand embrace from him. "I suppose my own fate could have been altered, if I had let it. Only, I was far too stubborn. I fought against dying, so hard. I hadn't realized then just what it was creating me into. I hadn't equated that with a flesh-eaters wound, a virus would spread and infect my body."

I was holding my breath, haunted by his retellings.

"Part of the people in attendance weren't strong enough, nor stubborn enough, to fight. Some went down instantly. A small few managed to flee outside the door."

"And _you_?" I think I already knew, though.

"I was young, I worked a life as a farmer with my father. I suppose the hard work paid off." He spoke it almost wistful, like it was something he reflected on often. "I could afford to fight, I had the strength. But one got to me, and bit me. Right here." He brought my hand up to his neck, and pulled down the collar of his shirt so that I could see for myself. Oddly enough, there was a dried-up welt on his skin. He let me slide the tips of my fingers over the scar, and it felt hard and creased against his cool skin. "I still fought, even then. I hadn't known it was only causing the virus to spread by the day." I ran my thumb over the scar again, and he trembled all the way down his spine. "I managed to flee, but I grew weaker and weaker, as the days grew on. And then soon, as I was resting in the barn that we kept all our pigs in, I blacked out. Everything went dark, but as I awoke again, I felt odd. Different, inside. Something in me had been altered."

It was horrifying, hearing him talk about it so casually, like he was merely talking to me about nothing more than the state of the weather.

"And then, the dreadful hunger settled in." He turned to glance back at me to make sure I was still fully invested in his story. And he could see I truly was. The way he said 'hunger' make me shiver. "I lost myself due to it. But then again, I think we all do. Others aren't as in touch with their feelings and emotions, as I am. Some of us lose ourselves completely and let the hunger for flesh overtake us. It is quite easy to do- it is natural to us, after all."

There was no denying, I was getting the creeps. But I tried to ignore it for the sake of attempting to understand him. Obviously, not many people gave him the time of day, and he deserved it. He was pleasant enough, and you shouldn't unfairly judge a book by its cover. "So, you've fought against the hunger?"

"I didn't that day. I went absolutely insane," he admitted, a look of sheer guilt crossing over his pasty face. "We definitely lose sight of ourselves, in horrifying ways. With my father, we took immense pride in looking after our farm crops, and the animals. That day, it didn't even register, when I awoke. I destroyed all our hard work. I went on a frenzy. First, I ate the pigs. Then I went after the cows." He laughed at that, a sort of guilty, astonished one. "Not even three large cows and four pigs could quell the hunger I felt, due to the virus. I soon learned flesh was what we normally gravitate to; Human flesh sustains us for a lot longer, though we are particularly known for over-indulging."

"Have you killed many?" I asked, after a moment of hesitation. For some reason, I was dying to know. Even though my head was screaming against it. It was only bound to horrify me.

"That day, I did. My father had a close friend, a farm-hand who assisted us in the crops. I went scattering on after him, and I slaughtered him. It the first time it occurred to me I must have looked appalling and frightful to flesh-people, because his reaction to me was so powerful. He kept on screaming and running. Then he grabbed a rake that we often used for the crops and attempted to stab me with it."

He stopped walking, and turned around to look at me fully. There was a hard, amused glint in his peculiar eyes.

"As you can see,_ I_ won. We cannot be taken down easily."

There was still something I didn't know. Something I was unsure of, such as why he decided to spare me last night. He could have easily given into the hunger, killed me, ate my flesh, and no one would have probably even noticed, aside from my father, when he realized I hadn't returned home. Soon, there would be missing incident reports on me filled out. But eventually, everyone would forgotten. I would have been just another unfortunate, speculated tragedy.

"Then why didn't you just kill me last night while you had the chance?" He looked downright shocked at my asking.

"Oh, no," he said, disgusted. "There would be _no_ death for _you_. Only you rising from the earth, and roaming the lands at my side."

"But why?" I whispered desperately. "Why wouldn't you just kill me?"

"And is that what you would like for yourself?" he asked, surprised. "You have plenty to live for. Your time hasn't come yet. Soon, you will get married to a decent man, and your life will unfold. Death isn't something a person generally asks for."

"Then perhaps I'm not like other people," I replied thoughtlessly. I had certainly thought about it before. Ending things. When the bullying at school got too much to deal with.

"Honestly, this is sad," he said, sounding very outraged. He let go of my hand, and stepped away.

"What is?"

"Seeing you like this. A young girl like yourself, with plenty to live for. This is wrong. Death isn't something you should see as an option, at least not so young."

"_You're_ young, and _you're_ dead. Maybe not the dead I'm talking about, but still."

"Yes, but I..." He looked so shaken by the conversation. "I have been the walking dead for very nearly over eighty years. A girl your age should not be talking like this. You have a lot to live for."

"Sometimes, it doesn't feel that way, though," I admitted honestly. He turned somewhat distracted then. He was fixated on my hair, for some reason beyond me. "Sometimes I feel there isn't any options out there for me. I'm undecided about what I ought to do with my life, once school is over. That's if I even do live past all the bullying and taunts. It just... tears me down."

As if it was the most normal thing, he raised his hand and ran his fingers curiously through the ends of my long hair. It was completely unexpected.

"You shouldn't talk like this." He lifted a handful of my hair, bent down, and put his nose an inch near it. He seemed truly fascinated, like he hadn't seen or felt hair before. It was oddly funny. "How could you speak of such a thing?"

I lifted my hand and touched the tip of his hair, since him touching me seemed quite fine and appropriate. His hair felt different. Wiry. Not real.

"It never grows," he said quietly. It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. "It stays the same, always. If I cut it all off, it will never grow back. My hair is limp, and dead. Just as the rest of me. But yours." He bent down and took in another deep, appreciate whiff. "It grows. It shines. Very beautiful."

I could almost feel myself blushing. "Thank you," I said, smiling softly. How odd was the tender moment I was sharing with a zombie.

"Do flesh at your school make you feel this way?"

"Beautiful?" I laughed out in confusion. "No. I'm a freak to them. A shy, awkward freak."

"No." He inhaled in the scent of my hair again. "Downtrodden? Unsure over your future?"

"Yes. I think that's mainly it."

"I could eat them," he said darkly, rubbing his fingers into the texture of my hair. "I could eat them all. I could kill an entire nation for you." And yet, why was that idea so appealing to me? The sweetness of revenge? "I could make them suffer and bleed a long and painful death over treating you this way." I realized a moment later, that he was being completely serious. And that frightened me.

"No," I said vehemently, after getting my bearings straight. "_Definitely not_."

"May I have my kiss now? I have waited all day." And then, he turned his lips into mine, and kissed me. His hands went behind my shoulders, his palms pressing down roughly, pulling me in, pulling my body flush against his. It was too suffocating, too tight, the seal of his lips over mine. An urgent moan tore through the back of his throat, a strange snarling rippled through the center of his chest, and he was shaking all over. It occurred to me than that he was struggling, fighting against biting me. And he could have easily done it within a heartbeat.

Perhaps sensing my distress, he tore his mouth away and walked a few feet from me. His back was facing me, his shoulders slumped forward. I could see by the trembling of his shoulder blades that he was frightened. "Good heavens," I heard him cry out. "That wasn't very smart. The hunger screams for flesh, but the lower hunger below... it cries for other sacred unions."

I tried to scan my memory for any movies where the zombie falls in love with the human, or attempts to kiss her. Then, I realized, it never happened in any zombie movie I had ever seen. I think that was enough reason to know it couldn't be possible.

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**Hope you enjoyed this one? Is it too crazy? Haha.**

**Please review and let me know your thoughts. See you next update! :-) x**


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